


Victimless Crimes Called Payback

by FancyLadySnackCakes



Series: Self-Help [2]
Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mild S&M, Rough Sex, Smutember 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:45:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12062082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyLadySnackCakes/pseuds/FancyLadySnackCakes
Summary: Anon #1 asked: omg omg omg I love your writing so much! can we get another Josh fix but this time a little more.. violent? like helping him with his 'prank' and getting revenge.Anon #2 asked: Can you do any more of Josh Washington? I love my problematic baby so much I can't evenA/N: Loosely based on the first request, but I hope both Anon's can enjoy this little drabble. Also for the Smutember 2017 challenge (https://smutember.tumblr.com/post/164308887575/announcing-smutember-smutember-is-a-multifandom)See tags for warnings.





	Victimless Crimes Called Payback

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous/gifts).



There are times, like now, that you wonder how different things would have turned out had you not encouraged Josh in his calculated revenge. How different things would be, if you’d pulled him aside, held his damp cheeks in your palms and told him ‘they weren't worth it.’ 

None of them were worth his time, not even Sam or Chris… friends that had nothing but hollow sincerities. 

You could have told him you’d help him make new friends; not look back. That he was ‘better than this’ and his sisters wouldn't have wanted him to pull a stunt on par with the one they pulled on Beth. You don't do anything you should do. Instead, you looked him in the eye, as his phone blew up with calls from Dr. Hill, and told him you were ready to help him fuck these self-absorbed assholes over. To hell with old ‘friendships.' Let them all burn, you thought.

“Whatever you need from me, I’m right here,” you reassured him vehemently, clutching his cheeks with hard thumbs and crude sympathy in your eyes. The way he looked back at you at that moment - as if you’d answered that one, desperate question right then and there - made you realize this was where you belonged. Dr. Hill could talk your ear off about self-help and routine, or how the best medicine was forgiveness, but this is what Josh needs, and a feeling like warm water fills your chest when you say you’ll help him and he smiles back at you… mushy and wet, and bumps his forehead to yours.

“No more pills,” was his whispered response before pressing you up with a nudge of his nose and kissed you.

You didn't question him but to ask how better to help him - and not the good kind of help, like make sure he didn’t actually flush his meds down the toilet. There was no telling him to stop this craziness., at least not as far as you were concerned. No, Josh would get none of that help from you. On the cusp of sick smiles and clutching fingers, you provided the worst help he could get: a blind instigator to reaffirm his needs. You were his partner in this - this thing that sounded more like a felony the more Josh went into the details. Every lifted fold of his plan, explained in increasing agitation and glee, got you hotter for him too. This - Josh - was exactly what you told Dr. Hill you didn’t want, exactly what he warned you against.

The second he blocks Dr. Hill’s phone number, it's as if ghosts have settled around Josh’s shoulders. Icy cold fingers pulling his eyes wide open. 

There’s no going back, you think, as you both finish packing. You catch Josh looking at things in the shadows as if he’s invited hungry demons back inside - phantoms starved and longing that’ve been following him around corners, sticking their eyes up over mattresses and door frames. Waiting. You gave Josh the push to let them back in.

The second you watch him step through the hand carved pine wood doors of the lodge, he adopts a manic flourish; painted in wan hues of pasty white and bruised purple. If you thought he looked bad while under the guidance of Dr. Hill, well… it’s nothing compared to the mental scarring that begins to flood the surface as he stands in the entry way. 

He doesn’t just look different, or sound different… Josh even fucks different. 

After the doors shut behind you, it’s like the young man you'd always supposed lay behind his eyes comes out; deeply disturbed and unabashed about it. With the tang of unspoken violence in the air, Josh grabs you by your coat sleeve before the snow has melted off your boots. Pinching fingers, not cruel, but unaware of their strength, grip around your waist, twisting you around and pinning you over your soft duffel bag. You stumble - knee bending awkwardly - as his weight molds over you. 

The sex is painful. 

But you like it - love the sting and burn and at this point it's almost as good as the damp breath he pants over your throat… maybe it's better. All his gross details about revenge and terror have made the need between your thighs hot but dry. The meds do that to you sometimes…

In the quiet of the lodge, you whimper.

Everything happens quick. No foreplay. You both wrestle with your jeans, but Josh doesn't understand he needs to lift himself back in order to get the denim off your ankles. The withdrawals haven't set in yet and they won't for a few days, but he already forgets the basics. You grunt at the jab of something hard in your spine. The pain isn't gratifying and somehow, for whatever reason, Josh knows the difference. He decides to shove you over the hardwood floor, turning your backside up into his hips in the process. 

Josh heaves a sigh behind you, rustling the loose braid of your hair around your neck and with a simple tug against his crotch, the hot slap of his bare dick lands on your naked ass. His cock nudges, finds your dry cunt and burns its way inside. 

Fire, you think, watching the dust along the floor flutter against your heavy breaths. More pain; itchy and hot. 

Josh hits resistance and pulls back. You blush, almost ashamed for being so unready despite wanting it so bad, but Josh makes not a sound, but a soft exhale as his thumb digs down between your legs and pulls the side of your cunt open. 

Another scant inch and more fire. 

Eventually, the dam breaks and his thrusts run as smooth as wet silk. It still hurts, thankfully… but the pain is on par with the pleasure.

There’s a desperate need to the way he fucks you in his family's lodge, along with something incredibly fucked up about the way Josh clamors around your thighs, yanking you into each and every heavy stab of dick. As the wind outside howled around the fused timbers, you think he groans your name - apologetic and breathless - but between the wind and the noises he fucks out of you, you can't be sure. The orchestra is enough to cancel out any admissions on his part. 

Usually, sex with Josh was painfully intimate; romantic even… in a mutually depressed sort of way. Often there were tears and sobs and shivering limbs stuck in crashing orgasms. It was good, but nothing this good could be healthy, and it isn't. Right now proves that beyond a shadow of a doubt. 

What you have with Josh is what Dr. Hill would call maladaptive. Poor decision making, at the very least and… you arch your back and beg him to go harder, loving every slippery right of crazy flesh.

Usually, there are enough softly spoken words to make you believe what you and Josh have is healthy. Not this time. This time Josh doesn't say a word as he works you both into a noisy, bone-tired frenzy. Pressing his palm to your neck causes you enough tension that your insides quivered and clenched, taking him by surprise based on the full warmth that floods you. 

After Josh cums - sweating under the parka he hadn't bothered removing - he turns you, almost gently until the skin-warmed wood flooring tastes your sweaty back. With a frustrated sigh, you finish yourself off, rubbing your clit awkwardly while his gaze burns. Those wide-whites knock back and forth inside his skull, watching your fingers swipe back and forth as his dick softens over his fly. The wet slide of his gaze settles on your face - your flushed ‘oh face’ - and as you rub tight pleasure between your thighs, Josh cradles your face and watches.

It’s always too much. Not just the bliss or the sex or the intimacy, but the way he looks at you… sometimes you’re sure it’s also in the way you look at him. There’s an understanding that goes beyond words. Two broken people, making the wrong choices, and not always for the right reasons. It’s selfish, and it’s not, but it’s unhealthy and when Josh kisses you on the floor - lips bruising your own - you sob and taste the pain coming to the surface.

This strange, erratic fuck on the luggage, in his family's empty lodge, marks the beginning of the end for you both. You could feel it then and later when the pig carcasses arrived.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and thank you to the anons for their request. Please, if you have time, let me know what you thought of this. All mistakes are my own. <3
> 
> \- and thank you to Darth Fucamus for looking this over for any discrepancies!
> 
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